Chatham Air Coming in for a Landing
by cliff.west
Summary: This is a crossover on two of John Ringo's books. Some friends of the Kildar must live threw the Black Tide Rising and get to the valley


**Chatham Air Coming in for a Landing**

Tom was sweating buckets. He lined up his approach, just like he had been told to do. Then he let his decades of experience take over for the task at hand. The massive craft fell from the sky. Technically it was gliding, but it was coming in at a very steep angle

The great beast blue grey belly cleared the low clouds and then its four massive props tore through the clouds. Tom now could see the dark landing zone ahead of him. With just a little more pressure on the yoke and then some right pedal. Tom was now happy with his lineup on the landing zone.

"3/4 flaps and power to 60 percent." As he was taking aloud. His hands started moving as his verbal commands were tuned into action. The craft was light. She was carrying about 90 percent of her normal load of fuel, the pilot and four other souls.

Seemingly to soon the twelve thick black wheels touched the ground. "Full flaps, airbrakes, kill power to 1 and 4. Full back on 2 and 3,"

The nose of the craft hit just a little harder than was normal. Then the full-throated roar came from the engines closest to the airframe. Soon the great craft was at full stop. It was well short of the turnaround point further down the dark runway.

The instructor pilot was impressed as he turned to face the older man in the left seat. "Impressive. You planted the nose wheel a bit hard, but you come up one hundred twenty meters short of what the book said was the required landing run. Please taxi to the turn around and let see if you can get this French made can back to base in one piece."

Tom nodded his head in a short up and down. All the while, he tried to keep the smirk off of his face. He had been flying longer than this pup had been alive. But he was the instructor, and without his passing grade? Tom was not going to be cleared to fly the Airbus A400 Atlas in the near future if ever. Tom had been studying for months, for this one certification. He had started as soon as he "heard" that some of the smaller NATO countries were looking at leasing this type of craft. And kind of surprisingly, Airbus was thinking that it might be a good idea. Would his high-end client need one? You would not think so. He had not thought about needing a C-130 until he had a client that would not fly on a different aircraft than his beloved McLaren F1. Much the same thing happened when he needed to get access to a larger Boeing 757. He had sworn not to ever have to jump through those hoops ever again, twice was enough for one life time.

Four weeks later Tom was back in his office. The check flight had been his way of destressing from his work. Now he felt like he needed to do it all over again. Maybe if he had known about what was building, he would have waited on the check ride. He and his wife ran Chatham Aviation charter service. It was a very exclusive service, and one that was rated as one of the best in the world. It was not the largest by far, but it was known for the skill sets of its pilots and crew, and the company's ability to protect its clients. He and his wife had spent the last twenty years building it up from a one airplane operation, to what it was today. Now he was wondering if it was going to last. The world was going crazy like a rocket ship on rails.

It has started slowly at first, with the first call to have a craft and crew on standby for a rich client. But soon the number of calls was at an all-time high. By the end of the day Tom had to call in all of his standby crews, and he started diverting some of the new clients to his competitors. Then it hit the news early the next morning. Nobody was saying the Z word, but that was what he called it when he had time to think about it.

It had been a bio terrorist attack, and it looked like it had spread worldwide, like something out of a b rate horror movie. That had been almost two weeks ago. At first, he thought it was a just a bad joke of some kind. Now he was not so sure. The rich and powerful were taking steps, and it was not one or even ten of them. The number of calls his company alone had fielded numbered in the thousands.

Tom turned from the window overlooking the airfield and went to a large safe on one wall of his office. With well-practiced hands, he had it open in a few seconds. It took longer to find the file he was looking for, but he found it and returned to his desk.

Gloria, his wife entered the office sometime later. She brought in a cup of tea, just the way her husband liked it. She noticed that he did not even look up from the red folder on his desk, when she entered room. She sat the cup down and her husband looked up at her with red and puffy eyes. She could see the stress there, and alone with something else. It took her a while looking at them to realize, it was fear. Then she looked at the open folder and her eyes grew wide in shock.

Gloria looked at the folder and read the first few paragraphs, and then looked back at her husband. "Are things that bad?"

The folder was there bug out plans. Tom had been a military man for many of his younger years. And one of the things, that had thought him. It was that you had better be prepared for anything and everything. This red folder had at first been the product of a night of too many beers and bad movies. He had broken it out every few years at first and made a few changes. to keep it updated. Now he was not sure if there was anything that was workable are not.

"Honey, we have not been to our home for three days, because of those things. It's getting worse and everyone who can, is getting ready to bug out. You're the one that put in the last dozen contracts about needing vaccine for the fight crews."

Gloria looked at her husband and gave a slight nod up and down. He was right, and it did look bad. "Okay, so what do we go? I liked that island Mike had us stay at awhile back."

Tom shook his head negatively. "We could, but what then? Every plan we had stops with getting somewhere. I don't have the skills for what we do afterword's or what happens when others follow us."

Gloria bristled at that comment. "You have skills! You can fly anything with wings and fix most engines with tape and a couple of set of pliers."

Tom gave a sad smile to his wife. "And if I'm so skilled? Why have we been living at the airfield for the last few days?

Gloria relented. "Okay, what do we do?"

"Well honey you brought up Mike Jenkins. Do you have his number?"

Gloria was knocked back on her heals. "Are you sure? I like him and all, but that is kind of extreme for us. What about some of our other clients? Some of them have good sized security and support staffs."

Tom smiled. "You saw how his team looked, acted, and trained. They were hard men and a few women, but they had the skills and they were always learning. Everyone else that I can think of, with close security? I compared to his people. Their security people are nowhere near, as good. With your life in the balance, I want to be with the best, if I can swing it."

Gloria relent and reached over his desk. When she bent over? She got a light swat on the butt. She punched in the number, that she had memorized and waited for the other end to pick up. If on one did, they could start looking for someone else.

"Kildar Caravenserai. This is Daria speaking. How may I help you sir or madam?"

Daria nice to hear your still working for Mike. This is Gloria and Tom from Chatham Aviation. We would like to talk to Mr. Jenkins."

Gloria made a face. She had not done the math, for the time zones when she had dialed the contact number. When she had started talking. She had noticed the time, and it was very late or very early in the Republic of Georgia. "He can just call us back, when he has the time."

Gloria was trying to let the young woman on the other end know, not to wake the Kildar. But before she could say more. The young voice was talking in accented English. "I will see if he is still awake."

Gloria passed the phone to her husband and sat on one corner of the desk, waiting. It did not seem long before Tom's eyes went up and he started talking.

"Mike, sorry to call you this late. But have you been keeping an eye on the world-wide news lately?"

Mike aka Kildar, aka to many names that were classified so high? That most of his names were simply kill yourself after reading. Normally it was him calling Chatham Aviation for a short notice and fast ride someplace. And those some places? Sometimes he still had the smell of gunpowder when he caught his ride. Or the WMD teams were still scratching their heads.

When Mike picked up the phone. He was surprised to hear who it was. And yes, he knew what was going on around the world. And he knew a lot more than 99.999 percent of the other people on his planet. He had just been looking at a classified report on what was happening in London, and what was expected to happen "soon". In short, London was going to be hell on earth any day.

"Yes, and I take it that is why your calling?"

Tom made a sad face and looked over at his wife. "Yea it is. Look Mike. My Plan A and Plan B are for shit. The other plans are not that workable either. You offered for us to come to see you once before. I was wondering if your offer was still good, even the coming circumstance?"

Mike sat back in his overstuff chair and took a sip of maybe the hundredth cup of tea, in the last 48 hours. He like Tom and Gloria, and Anastasia like them also. They were good people. Besides if Dr. Aransky's model was right? Having a fixed wing pilot of Tom's skill would/could be a very valuable asset to him.

"Look, Tom it's bad in Tbilisi, maybe as bad in different ways than London. If you can get here and we are still alive? You are welcome. But you will have to get to the valley all on your own. I don't know if I will be able to flush a team to collect you that has to travel any distance."

Tom let a breath out, that carried over to the sat-phone thousands of miles away. "Thank you, Mike. I don't want to come with just my hat in hand. Do you mind if I bring a few things along and some people that work for me?"

Mike frowned. "Tom do you know virulent his crap is? The more people you talk to? The more of a chance you will start to try to eat you own people after a few days. And as far as hat in hand? You get here, and we can see how you and Gloria fit in with the local situation."

Tom almost collapsed in the very back of his high-backed office chair. "Thank you, oh god think you. We will be on our way as soon as I can." The phone went quiet on the other end after a quick goodbye and good luck.

Gloria was looking at her husband and gave him a look that only a wife can do. He did not do anything for a few second. Then when got up and went back to the large safe and he pulled out the very illegal shots on the top shelf. They had the primer, and this was the last one. He had only been able to get two shots, and that were going to cause some issues down the road without a doubt. He gave his wife the first shot and then she gave him the other one.

As he rubbed the small red dot from the shot. "Gloria call everyone. Tell them, that if they want to try to get out of town with us? The plane is leaving in." He checked his watch and did some math in his head and looked out the window. "We will be trying to take off in forty hours. If they are not hear by then? No hard feels, and we will wish them luck. Do not tell them were we are going to try for. We have an idea, which is what we are going for."

Tom stopped taking, as his mind when to work on an outline of an updated plan. "Tell them, that we might have to do a lot of walking and camping on the other end." He did not want someone bring ten tons of cloths or something. This was going to be tight enough, just with a few bodies. Now how to get his people a few thousand miles, with airspace closed to civilian aircraft?

With slightly wide eyes, he looked at his wife. The plan might have just fallen to place, just like that. "Gloria do you remember that one client, who paid in Gold a few years ago?"

Gloria looked a little confused and then her rolodex came up with who he was talking about. And she was again a little confused. "Oh yea. Plus you refused to cash it in, when gold spiked last year. I take it you want me to collect it all up?

"Yea and a few other things like it. I need you to get on the phone, woman. We will be going home tonight. When we come back? I don't expect to be back for some time." Tom was shaking his head from side to side and he had deep frown on face. "I have some things to check out." Tom got a little lost look in his eye, but he was thinking that not selling that gold might just have saved their lives.

Gloria was talking his back, "But how are we getting there?"

She did not get a reply, except for the office door closing behind her retreating husband. With her own shoulder shrug, she went back to her own office. She had a lot of phone calls to make, and she had her own projects that needed to be done. That is if they were leaving Great Britain, this soon.

Tom left his office building and walked to the nearest company hangar on this airfield. He checked the side door and surprisingly, it was locked. That did not last long, thanks to the key ring on his belt. He had to duck as he stepped through the threshold, very quickly as part of his mind "felt" something.

There was a resounding and loud "Twing" as the BFH hit the metal of the side door jam. It would have crushed Tom's head like a melon. "Damn it, Jake! I was coming through a locked door, with a key."

Jake did not look remorseful in the least about almost taking his bosses head off. Jake was a large man, who did his twenty in the Royal Air Force before coming to work for Tom. He had started off in sheet metal. And then he had worked in all the shops, before becoming a maintenance inspector and retiring. Now he got paid more for the same work, and he did not have to get deployed that often to get that paycheck.

He gave a shoulder shrug. "I was thinking you were a thief or something." He was not going say that he was trying to kill a naked crazy maybe zombie.

Tom looked his chief mechanic in the eyes and did not say more on the subject. "How many are living here? And don't tell me none. Gloria and I have been living in our office for the last three days and I have not been sleeping that much."

Jake made a sour face. "We have eight adults and four kids, not counting me. Four of our people and their spouses."

Tom looked around to see eyes looking back at him, from some of the different dark spots in the hangar. "What was your plan?"

Jake made a fish face, and after a few second of silence he told Tom the answer. "I was hoping to steal a plane and fly out to the Isle of Man. That is, until I heard about a hundred people say the same thing. Right now? We are just sitting it out and waiting to see how things break or we run out of the food we brought."

Tom could feel the eyes drilling into him and this time they were not coming out of the shadows. "Jake, why don't we take a walk? I have an idea."

Jake was both surprised and not surprised, that the old man had a plan of some kind. He pointed to the now unlocked door, and the two men walked out of the maintenance hangar and into the bright light of the day. As soon as the door was closed behind them. Tom started talking and giving an outline of an escape plan, that had just come up with. Jake had just become the loadmaster for this mission, without even knowing. Jake could not help but be slacked jawed and look at his long-time boss.

"Okay that is a plan? But what plane were you thinking about taking on this little junket half way around the world?" He knew better than Tom, what aircraft were not on a mission some were around the world already.

Tom smiles and without saying a word, he points to the other side of the runway. Jake fallowed the pointed finger and he turned white. "Oh, bloody hell."

Tom was still smiling as they walked over the empty runway. They checked out the craft in question, and then they made sure it was fully fueled and ready complete with log book. No one even stopped them, as they hooked up an aircraft tug and moved the 76-ton plane. After it was safely near the occupied hanger? The two men now helped by the hands of the willing started to load the plan with what was pointed out to them.

The first item was the hardest. It was a sea land van without wheels. The company sometimes landed planes in places that did not have any support to speak of. And sometimes while they were there, the planes broke down. Sometimes They did not have to do anything but sit in the sun, and something would break on them. To help with that issues. The idea of this van was born. It would fit in some smaller cargo planes, but it was built to be loaded into a C-130 type craft. They just were better at landing and then taking off of on short runways. The van was basically a full supporting hangar on the move. It was going to the front of the plane, just forward of the wings. This would leave open areas forward and aft of the van.

After it was tied down. The group broke up into three-person teams. No one was to be alone at any time. They went raiding every hangar and building within the fenced in area of the airport. Four hours later, after dropping another load of cargo from a borrowed airport pickup truck. Tom had to leave the project for Jake to finish. He picked up his wife and loaded into their Land Rover. Well, it was not exactly their Land Rover. It belonged to the company that shared the same office building as Chatham Aviation.

The drive should have only taken the couple maybe an hour to get home from the airport. That is, if they were not having to dodge naked people every five or six blocks. By the time they pulled into their home? They had seen half a dozen naked people "detained" on the streets. Tom had sweat stains under his arms and running down his back. The sun was still up and would not set for a maybe another two hours.

Before he shut off the truck, he looked at his wife. "Okay honey. I want to be on the road before it gets dark. We talked about what to get. I want to keep it down to two roll-around bags, and two carry-ons. The carry-ons are going to have our camping and sleeping stuff. Everything else needs to go into the roll-a-rounds. If we have to dump something it is going to be those roll-a-rounds."

Gloria nodded, and the two walked very quickly to their home. What to take had been how they had kept their sanity on the drive from the airport. Tom went down the stairs and got the things that they could use to sleep under the stars with. Guns were very hard to come by in Great Britain. That did not mean, that people did not have them. Tom pulled out a pair of military 9mms pistol, four magazines and two hundred rounds of spare ammunition out of a small and well-hidden safe.

Next to go in the pile, were four long bladed field knives. He normally used them for chopping the odd limb off a tree after a good wind blow. Now they might have more deadly uses, and they did not run out of bullets. But they did take a lot of energy to use, and he hoped he had the skills, and mental toughness to use them that way.

When he came up to the first floor living room carrying his load of items. He found the two largest roll-around luggage bags they owned in the living room. One was completely full of a mix of his and her stuff. It was jeans, field shirts, and some old military cold weather gear. There also were bags of camp food and of all things. She had a stack of books in and around the bags. She also had gold bars, coins, and her nicest jewelry. Tom just nodded his head up and down and started taking items out to the SUV. They did not make the two hours deadline that Tom had wanted. The sun was well down, and the Land Rover was packed to the gills. Not all of the items would make it on the plane. They had to eat and stay clean before the flight after all.

It was full on dark, when the Land Rover made it to the streets. Now the local area reminded Tom of some trips down in some not so nice part of Africa. To his wife, it was a scene straight from Hell. Buildings and cars were burning on about every other block. They had not known about the auto door locks but were thankful for them, when someone tried to open one of the side doors at 40 kph. It was so dark that they could not tell if the person had clothes on or not. It did not matter, and Tom clenched the 9mm that much tighter in his right hand.

When Tom pulled up to the gate to the Airport and the now red tinted lens cast their beams at the fence. Tom knew something was wrong. The gate was open about three feet wide and the guard shack's door was open, but no one was in sight.

Tom rolled up to the access gate and looked at his wife. When he got out of the right side of his car, she moved over from her seat to the driver seat. Tom held the weapon in his right hand and he looked around the local area. It seemed that there were fewer pools of light, then there should be. As he approached the guard shack. He kept trying to think about what Mike would do in this situation. He was drawing a blank, so he went with half remembered training and ideas from a lot of movies. He was a pilot, not a commando.

When Tom looked into the guard shack window, he knew were the guard was. He was laying on the deck of the shack, in a large pool of his own blood with massive chunks taken out of his neck, arms and sides. I looked like he had been attacked by a pack of lions. The poor sap had not even been armed, at least he did not get up and start walking around after being bitten. Not with half his throat ripped out, he would not be moving around again, thank god.

Tom did not enter the blood-soaked guard shack. He knew that his stomach wouldn't have been able to handle it. He waved to his wife to approach, and he opened the gate just wide enough to let her through the heavy gate. He kept one hand on the gate, and one hand on his weapon. When the land rover back bumper was clear of the rolling gate? He started to close the gate, while Gloria kept the engine running.

When it was closed again, he realized that there was no way to keep it closed. He started patting his flight vest. He found a D ring and quickly pulled it off the vest. He had used it to carry his preflight check list when he flew long distance missions. Now it was going to hold the gate closed for him. He quickly put the four-inch-long device threw two parts of the gate and spun the locking nut finger tight. It would keep the crazies out, but anyone could get it unlocked and unclipped in under two minutes if they were not rushed badly.

Gloria was still in the driver seat and Tom hopped into the left side passenger seat. His weapon was still in is hands. She or he was looking to see where the attackers of the guard might have gone. Besides the guard shack, this area of the airport was dark. Gloria was panting as she used muscle memory to drive towards "her" part of the airfield.

As they made the last turn Tom knew were the pack of lions went after the attack on the guard. They were around the well-lit main hangar. The one that Jake and the rest of his people were living in. "Kill the bloody lights" Tom said without thinking.

Gloria's hands were moving before she knew it, and the SUV's head lamps went dark. The sudden darkness made Tom's eyes blink. The naked lions had not noticed the dried blood dim lights. or the sound of the Land Rover's engine. There was too much noise and light coming from the hangar, to distract the attackers. With the lights, off and the car not moving. Tom was able to get a count of the number of bodies outside the hangar. He had to do this twice and the numbers were close to the same, each time. Eighteen.

Tom looked around the area some more. There was no one to help, that he could see. He would have to help himself and his people stuck in the hangar. He took the weapon and checked the magazine and the safety catch. With pistol ready to go, Tom stopped for a long second. Then he reached into the back seat for his long leather coat. Gloria's eyes were huge, when he got out of the car.

Tom removed his flight vest and then put on the long leather winter coat. It was going to be hot but with the leg ties and the vest? It should cover most of his body with a thick layer of leather. He had to get his breathing under control. And when he thought he was ready? He slow walked up on the crowed of naked people attacking the side of the hangar.

He slowly made his way to the back of the crowd. He used some handy dark areas to close in on the group. When he was close enough? He lashed out with the long poled mounted Japanese pull cutting blade. It struck high on the shoulder of his target and then he pulled. The strike was more luck than skill. And the blade took the head almost off. Deep down he knew these things were not zombies, and head shots were not the only way to put one down. But it was the fastest, and one part of his brain was okay with this fact.

The body dropped to the asphalt and now there were seventeen. Tom would dart out, and strike. And then he would retreat into the darkness, after each attack. He did not take one down with each strike, but he did after a second or maybe a third attack. Only once, did one of the rabid people try to follow him back into the darkness. He thought he had the pattern down pat, and that was when it all when to pot. There were now only ten left between him and his people.

Tom was about to strike again with the blade, but this time the target turned at the last second. The strike still went in, but it only cut deeply into the arm of the solidly built man that Tom had been aiming to take down. The worst part was the sound that his target made that let the rest of the mass know that there was some easier pickings nearby. The whole mass turned as if one mind and looked right at Tom.

Tom did not freeze at the quickly changing situation. He dropped the pull saw and went for the pistol in the coat's belt. He went into a classic two-handed grip and started putting bullets into the ten-point ring, at ten meters. He was not looking at faces. Just chest with red dots, as his bullets struck home. The weapon was a military Sig Sauer P226, but it was not shooting military grade full metal jacketed rounds. They would have just punched holes about 10mm in size through the targets.

Tom was shooting jacketed hollow points that he had picked up on a trip back to the states a few years ago. The ammo box only looked to be military issue. His bullets were only making 9mm holes in the front of the target, but the exit wounds were something totally different. In one case the exiting round hit and stopped a follow on attacker.

Where the blade had been quiet, the pistol sounded off. And there were too many attackers and too few bullets. Tom was still stepping back, and then he was not stepping back. He was falling. They were all over him, as he fell to the concrete. They were trying to get to him, as he tried to fight them off. But he was not that good, at hand to hand combat. He was a pilot, for Christ's sake. He was pushing, punching, slapping, and kicking. All the while wishing he had kept the blood blade.

Then the next thing Tom knew. The face that was trying to eat his nose, was pulled up by the hair. In flash of metal that he barely could see, and he was splattered in blood as a heavy spanner came flying into his field of view. The metal stuck the woman in the side of the head. Tom could see the bones of the neck break. And the body went limp over his. Tom was still looking at the almost white bones sticking out of the neck and did not notice who had saved him.

Jake pulled the ninety-pound naked girl boldly off of his boss, and he looked down at the blood and gore covered man. "Good timing. They came out of nowhere, and we did not have time to get the hatch locked down. I don't know that I could have held the bloody thing closed, for another minute before you distracted them."

Tom could not move from his position of being flat on his back, and then Gloria came out of the dark. She threw herself on top of him, and he was once more pinned to the ground. After a few seconds he had a flash image of the open gate, and his heart stopped. _"Did they get them all_?"

Tom pulled his head out of his wife's hair. "I closed the gate, but I don't know if this is all of them." That got the two others looking around in the dark. Tom started to pull himself off the ground was helped the last bit by Gloria and Jake. His body was hurting in places he did not know he had, or not remembered that he had.

"I think we will be staying with you tonight, Jake. Do you think the Rover could be a good door block? Oh, and how about turning off the bloody lights? I think they love the bloody things, like a moth to flame."

As it turned out, they could not use the Land Rover to block the door of the Hangar. At least, not if they wanted to use the only door on that side of the building and have access to the vehicle. The power was cut, to all the lights in and on the hangar. And the massive hangar was dark with only a one or two hand held lights, but they were used only in the rooms without windows for the rest of the night. The whole building had only fit full sleep after the attack. The slightest sound brought back images of attacking naked people the building.

Everyone was up early the next day. The first thing they did, was use the windows and roof access to check the local area for threats that might have shown up during the night. Tom had called Emergency Services and told them about the attack.

The first surprise was that no one had answered his calls during the night, when he had tried to call. And when he did reach someone? They said they would get a pick-up crew out to him as soon as they could. They did not seem to care, that he had just killed almost two dozen humans. Tom let his wife and Jake know what was said, and with knowing looks, they pushed themselves and everyone else harder. It was another sign, which they were on a short clock.

The other side hatch on the hangar was closer to the main office. First, they found anything heavy, and they made a protected double walled walk way between the two buildings. It was also going to double as a safe parking area, as more people made their way to the airport. That was the first two hours of work and it was done before the first dump truck with a police escort showed up to the hangar. They just waved to the people working around them and put the now dead bodies in the bed of the dump truck.

The rest of the day was marked by twos and threes as people showed up. It was both slower and fewer people than Tom had hoped for. But all threw the day more showed up. And more hands meant that they could get more "stuff" that Jake found to load onto the aircraft. Sometimes Tom would help with the loading, but most of the time he was planning the flight and getting all the maps he could. The printer was burning through ink and paper like there was no tomorrow. These printed maps were the backup, for the digital data, he was updating on his laptop.

Tom was head down over a black and white image of some kind, when his wife walked into his office. "Honey, we just got a call from Cyril Barton and his co-pilot. He was who we sent with that small Greek charter right at the start of the surge. The same something happened, and he had to leave the secure area. It looks like someone was bitten or something. He is hiding near the Syros island nation airport, and they cannot get to his plane. He wants to know if we can come get him?"

Tom looked up and then threw his red pen across the room. "Damn it." He did not say anything for some time. "Okay tell him, I will see what I can do. Make sure he stays by his sat-phone."

Gloria nodded, but she did not leave the room until she had hugged her husband. Now Tom had to pull up some maps about a Greek island. As he looked, he started to take notes. "Maybe this was not so bad of a problem, after all."

When the sun set this time, all of the power was turned off for both buildings. And the two now connected buildings were dark and locked down, as best they could. They had been lucky, so far, and no one sick had shown up. All threw out the night, someone was awake in each of the two buildings. They were there to make sure nothing happened, and to help any late-night arrivals. But in the office, they were manning the landline phones, sat phones, and the radios.

When the sun rose on the next and the last day on the island, for this group. They were greeted by thin pillars of grey/black smoke rising over what they thought were parts of London. Tom and a small group took care of the preflight of the aircraft. Gloria and Jake took care of getting everyone loaded and the last items packed down so that they would not shift around. Tom had set a hard time of forty hours from the time had decided.

They were ready two hours before that time, and he did not leave. He dozed in the left seat and waited. He was going to give everyone the time he had said that he would. Plus, he wanted the sun to be just right, when he took off. After all, it was not every day you stole a A400M Atlas painted in Airbus colors.

He could have taken off as soon as they were ready, no one new showed up in that two-hour window. Well no new people showed up, but the inviable flu bug did make its way to them. Jake took care and tied up everyone who was not needed as crew to get the plane off the deck. That caused a few issues, until Jake told them it was his way, or they could get off the plane, and a he did not care which one they took.

When the small alarm clock sounded off in the cockpit? Tom shut it off, and he hit the intercom in the cargo area. "Okay, Jake get us untied and cleared for takeoff."

Jake just pointed at four people who jumped out of their seats, like they had been kicked in the butt. Tie downs were pulled out, grounding straps disconnected, and the tug was moved away from the nose of the aircraft. The tug had not been hooked up, but it looked that way from about fifteen feet away. As Jake was about to re-board the cargo plane, he did one more visual check of the plane. And then he grabbed the black plastic chock blocks. They followed him into the main body of the craft. You never know, when you might need a good set of large chock blocks.

Tom had not pulled this time to take off out of his butt. He happened to know, that at certain times of the day. The tower had a problem seeing what was taking off from this end of the field. He had been flying long enough, not to want to take off without letting the tower know. All civilian aviation had been grounded for days now. So, there was very little chance, that he was going to "run into" someone. But little chance, did not mean no chance.

Tom had as his co-pilot today, Gloria. He did not trust anyone else not going all bitey, right now. He gave her a look that she returned with a light pat of his right hand.

"Tower. This Chatham Six. Is there any traffic that I need to be aware of for a taxi and maintenance run out?"

A tired voice came back over the radio, after about a dozen seconds of dead air. "Tom? It's Max Smith. What you doing out there?"

The radio was quiet again for a few seconds. Everyone knew that what was said on this frequency was recorded. "Tom, I'm the only person on sift. And I don't think there will be anyone up here when I leave." The voice went into professional mode. "There is not traffic on the ground at all. Expect some naked runners by the main concourse. There is spotty traffic above 20,000 and I have reports of an unknown number of small low flying private craft all over the place."

Tom made a sour face. He could tell that the man in the tower knew what was being planned. "Thanks Max. You take care. I have a bottle of the good stuff in my desk, if you want it."

That was all Tom said, as he rolled the massive cargo plane first to the taxi way. And then he went to the Main run way. As soon as the wings were even with the runway. Tom shoved the throttles to the stops, and the four sets of eight bladed props bit into the air. By the time the craft was half way down the runway. The nose wheel was coming off the black streaked concrete. The craft pulled up sharply. Soon the plane was all the way in the air, and its great mass supported only by the moving air over and under the wings.

Tom kept his ear and his eyes open for any threat. He knew that his wife was doing the same without needing to be asked. The great bird rose in the air leaving a city that was starting to burn below them. Tom was doing almost three jobs the craft needed done as the same time. Gloria had not had time, to do more than read a few of the manuals. She was helping were she could, but mainly she was making sure they did not run into anyone.

While Tom was getting the cargo plane to a "safeish" altitude. Jake was in the back with ropes. Tom had only been able to get a total of six primer and three final shots in-between everything else he had to do. No one had any idea if they were good, on not. That did not mean that there were not people, who wanted to give it a try. Jake was not taking any chances. Everyone was getting restrained even the lucky few who had gotten the medicine, that Tom had acquired.

As the great plane dropped on wing and headed over the Channel. The crafts military grade radar showed a mass of puddle jumpers flying between wave or tree top level. Who knew where they were going, but they were going somewhere. Tom made a note of the altitude and weather. After checking a few notes. Tom pulled the power back on all four engines. Now they did not need all the speed he could get out of the aircraft. They need economy, and flight range.

Some were over France they first passenger started to freak out and wanting to strip. Tom did not even drop the altitude. He depressurized the craft, and Jake and one other man shoved the third man out the open side hatch still tied up. They drop eight human bombs by the time they cleared French airspace. Every time a traffic control demanded that they turn out of there airspace. Tom would parrot the military tail number of the craft, and kept flying at 9,000m and at a rock steady 780 km/h. They were still flying as the sun went down behind them. Not once did another aircraft, military or otherwise get close to them.

 **Four days later**

The sun was well up. The central display was showing a map of the local area. And the edge of the screen just had the Black Sea as a thin blue sliver of color. Tom looked at the map and then looked around outside of the craft. He was tired, and he looked over to his wife and gave her a slight shoulder shrug. That was all that she needed to see from her husband to communicate what he needed her to do.

Gloria took out the sat phone and said a little prayer. Now it was official, that he whole world had gone to hell. She had no idea if the thing still worked or not. It was not like they had any other choice. Tom had not thought to get the radio frequency of local military, and he doubted that Mike would think to keep an ear on Guard. If the sat-phone did not work, that was their last hope. After that? They were just going to drop in on the man called Mike Jenkins. And that might not be survivable. She punched in set of numbers that she had known by heart.

Mike was sitting in his SUV. He was in full combat load, along with the six others in the truck with him. He was looking over the valley. He had been short on sleep, but there was no way that he could force himself to sleep. Not at time like this. He had pulled his people out of Tbilisi three days go. Thanks to his own pet WMD maker. He had known what was going to happen, before anyone else in the local area.

He had spent every hour of every day working on trying to protect this valley, and what he thought of as his people. He had worked his people just as hard, and it did not matter if they were male, female, young or old. Mike had been using only the duty teams for the first few weeks of the downfall. When the American CDC had made their announcement. Mike knew it was time to find another gear or they were sunk.

All Mike had to do was show some of the Fathers, some of the images for have them muttering Ragnuk. And that was close enough to Ragnarök for Mike.

The Keldera only thought they had been worked hard. The family Mothers and Fathers were relentless. They did not need whips of leather. They had the lash of the tongues. Mike would be able to take teams or part of teams out of the Valley. They were to acquire things, which Mike or Adamas or anyone else, had thought was important for the future of the valley or humanity if it turned out that way.

The Keldara had first thrown up an eight foot tall rammed earth wall, with a four foot tall wooden palisade all around Mike's home literally overnight. It started at the spot where the road level off at a gate house and then went all the way around the caravanserai Then they did the same for each of the "Family" homes. The village of Alerrso also was working on putting up a medieval wall complete with gates on the main roads. That took the longest, but they did it themselves…. Mostly.

While the village was working on their defenses. Every road soon had complex check points going up. It was while these check points were going in, that Mike started pulling members from each family into to see the doc. The had made his first batch of vaccine. Those few were going to be the hunters to bring back more spines of infected.

Those spines would be used to make vaccine for the whole valley. It also gave each team a few fighters experience fighting, this new threat. It did not take long for all of his teams to gain the experience doing this, and even to get some of the town's people into the act. There was only so much Mike could do, and he felt like he still had not done enough.

Mike was lost in thought looking around the Valley when Chief Adams walked up and handed him the sat phone. "It's for you." That was all he said.

Mike looked at him and then took the brick like phone. There was something in the look that Adams had that sent the warming bells going off in Mike's head. "Go." As soon as he spoke. He could hear something odd in the back ground. And then a female voice come through the static and back ground noise.

"Mike, its Gloria and Tom we are about half an hour out. Can we come by to see you?"

Mike did not know what to say for a few seconds. "Good to hear you are still alive. I thought something might have happened. Is John with you?"

"No, he is well north of you. We have not heard from him, in some time. We have a pretty full load." That was the only hint that they were going to be flying in. They were now so used to having to keep operational security for so long. they had not broken it even on the Sat phone.

"Ah Gloria. All we have is a pair of helo pads set up. We have not put in a runway."

Gloria gave a crazy giggle. "Tom said that he was planning on put it down on the road that runs by the river. If you can get someone to clear the longest straight section of any traffic and put up a wind sock at one end. He said the book says it needs 770 meters of solid packed dirt and gravel."

Mike passed the phone back to Adams. "This is going to be interesting. Get Daria on the line. She had some work to do."

94 minutes later a roar filled the valley, as the plane came in. Mike had gone back to the Caravanserai and had a powerful set of field glasses out. He saw the plane drop out of the clouds and come up the valley. He thought it was a C-17, then he thought it was a C-130. And then he just gave up trying to figure out what was coming in to land.

#############

Tom drop the speed of his craft as low as he dared. He flew up the river, but he was looking at the road. There was a big difference, between looking at the satellite image and looking at the real thing. He had remembered that Mike had said the retainers took care of the roads. But that did not mean that it was a runway. Tom pulled up when the valley got to narrow. He did two more passes down the valley before he was ready to try a landing.

Mike could not take his glasses off the aircraft as it came into "land", crash or whatever. It was like watching cars sliding on ice. He could not just look away. He saw it as the main landing gear first touched the gravel road.

There was a billow of dust and then he could see small rocks being thrown up behind the landing plane. That lasted for only a few seconds. Then he could see only the greyish cloud as it over took the massive plane. As Mike tried to track the movement within the cloud. He felt his heart sink when he saw to sets of flames become visible with in the swirling grey cloud.

 **Two hours later**

Mike was sitting in his office with the latest addition to his "tribe?". Across from him were Tom and his wife. Both looked the worse for wear. Each were having a drink of something stronger than tea or beer. When he thought the time was right, he wanted to do something to break the ice.

"I thought you had bent your plane, when I saw the flames."

Gloria's hands started to shake the glass and Tom reached over and patted her hand. Then he looked over to Mike. "You and me both. Those eight blade props must have picked something up and pulled into the turbine on Number 4. I'm just glad, that I was about to put it to idle. But if any more fuel had been left in the wing, we might have been goners." Tom took a deep drink. "I don't know if we would have walked away from it. As it was. I started to slide when I lost power on that slide."

Mike was thinking about how the pilot had causally said slide. When he was referring to a 90 ton, three quarters full, 90 mph traveling airplane. One that had done a 450 degree turn on a gravel road. The same plane that was blocking the only main road in the valley, and now was suck in the mud all the way to the bottom of the plane.

Mike took a sip of his beer and kept an eye on the couple. "After you did not contact us, again. I thought you were toast. What happened?"

Tom settled back in his chair. "We got word that one of our crews had problems in Greece. Their safe haven fell to a mix of external attack, and someone turning inside. We landed in Syros and were just going to pick them up and top off the tanks. Things…..kind of changed after we landed. I was taking care of the plane, so Gloria and Jake really know what happened."

Tom did not even have to look at his wife, to let her know he was going to hand off the story. They had been together long enough, for something like this to be old hat. "When we landed our crew had us taxi to one end of the runway. That made since, Syros nation airport is not that big of an airport. As it turned out, our crew picked up a few friends while they were waiting on us. That was when we found out that those things are attracted to noise, as well as lights. We lost some people and gained a few people. Any way it seems that they found their own ride, but they needed some tools and smarts to finish the job. We took three days to fix their plane, and to refuel both aircraft."

Mike was nodding his head as he fallowed along. He had known that the crazies were attracted to noise, but he was a SEAL and they owned the night. He had not noticed that lights had any effect on this new enemy. " _Now that might be useful, if I can figure out a way to use it,"_ thought Mike.

"It must have been a wreck. Chief was amazed at that support van you had strapped in the Atlas. He had been sweating how long he could maintain Dragon, and Valkyrie. I think finding a way to get that ten-ton monster up the hill, is going to be an epic cluster."

Tom almost snorted up his drink. "Oh, it was not that bad. But have you tried to pump a few thousand pounds of fuel uphill, and without any power in a 40C?"

Mike's eyes got a little larger. In fact, he had pumped gas with a hand pump into a semi tanker about a week ago. He had lasted maybe two hundred gallons, before he needed to take a break. After that? He had made sure they had powered pump of some kind to do the work for them. The good point had been that while they waited? They had been able to collect quietly a few spines. Mike looked over his glass of beer and he lit his tone get dry.

"So, I take it that we can be expecting some more visitors to my valley. Why didn't they come in with you? And all at once?"

Gloria caught the tone, and it went over Toms head and she knew it. "We did not have enough room for them and their equipment on the Atlas."

Now Mike was interested. Having an additional half a dozen people with aviation maintenance experience was great and very useful. That along with two fixed wing pilots and one with some stick time, but no certs was a major plus. That did not count the cargo they had brought in with them, and the plane.

"What kind of experience and equipment? I have shooters."

Now Tom was all smiles. "I kind of thought, you might. They took off with four wild land fire fighters, two structural firefighters, one EMT paramedic, and two American Navy RN's that were able to get off of the Mercy when it was overrun. And let me tell you. Those firefighters know how to swing axes and they can do it all day long."

Mike was grinning like a shark. They had a major wild land fire, a few years before he came to the valley. And that had been one of the things, he had been worried about once he noticed what was going on around the world.

"I bet they can. And having a few of them around would be nice, and the two nurses would be a help. We were able to pull some staff from one of the hospitals on one of the helos. But why did they not just follow you in?"

Tom was shaking his head negatively. "They are coming out in Greek CL215 firefighting amphibian. They fly lower, slower, and have a lot shorter legs than we do. They are going to have to set down in a small town on the Black Sea. One of the crew had used this one site before, and it is supposed to be set up for emergency use next fire season. If things work out? They should be here in a day or two. I told them about that lake about ten or fifteen kilometers south of here. Do you think you can get them? If they land there and do you have anyone listening on aviation guard?"

Mike was picturing the lay of the land around them. They had already made contact with some of the families and farms that had closer ties with the Keldara, but lived outside of the main valley. Pushing a team that far out would not be safe, but it might be worth the risk.

"Yes, we do. And I will keep the QRF teams briefed on the possible mission to go out that way. If they make it."

They spent the next hour talking and doing a little "what if" planning. The couple left and went to check on their people as soon as they came to a breaking point. All of the people on the airplane had been tested for antibodies of the new plague. Everyone who had failed that test were in a holding area, while they waited for the primer shot to take effect. They would not be allowed to walk around outside without the final shot. After that? They would have to undergo some specialized training. No one was allowed to be outside a protected area, without at least a blade weapon or a pistol. And Mike was not going to let just anyone have a firearm, not in his valley.

* * *

thank you for reading. I did have a second chapter that stated 6 months after the lights went out in NYC. I just can not get it to flow right. it covered Mikes new equipment, SUVs not work that great in zombie battles, but a BTR might. I used the float plane to pull out some 173rd troops in the black sea. it also had what happened to Hardesty and an AN-2 Colt. I might relook this later. I just had to get this out of my mind so I can sleep.


End file.
